


The impossibilities of third chances

by Shiba_K



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, F/M, Fix-It, Happy Ending, Humor, Post-Episode: s09e12 Hell Bent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-18 02:29:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5894572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiba_K/pseuds/Shiba_K
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes help comes from the people you least expect. Three influential people from the Doctor's and Clara's life collaborate to get the two back together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Act I: Is it a sad song?

**Author's Note:**

> A fix-it fic for the series 9 finale in five acts.
> 
> It was supposed to be a Christmas fic, unfortunately my thesis got in the way. Happy early 2016 Christmas?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara is missing her Doctor. Me wonders if there isn't something that can be done for her.

The melancholy and gripping notes of an electric guitar reached Me as soon as she rounded the corner of the corridor leading to Clara’s room. Sighing and rolling her eyes, Me counted to ten out loud before retracing her steps and detouring to the library. Clara had slipped into one of her moods again. It happened from time to time when missing the Doctor became particularly hard making her seek comfort in the last piece she had of him: the song he had written when thinking of her.

Me suspected that their latest adventure had sparked the current depressive state. They had landed in Clara’s time zone which according to the TARDIS calendar was somewhere at the start of December. The center of London had been lit up by fairy lights, the windows of shops filled with sparkling red and gold decorations, and fake snow dusting the Christmas trees inside. Clara had told her snippets of hers and the Doctor’s life together, including what had happened last Christmas with the dream crabs and their second chance. Christmas had always been a special time for humans Me knew, but for Clara it held even more meaning and being somewhere festive must have brought to the surface memories of the Doctor. 

She wasn’t necessarily cross with Clara, although she knew that the younger woman would have to start moving on sooner or later. Clara now had eternity in front of her. Holding too tightly to a man she could never be with was the wrong way start. She knew so from painful personal experience. Me had discovered early on in her journey that human beings had always had a need to hold on to things tying them to their loved ones. Mementoes of the past meant to keep alive the memory of bygone days, sustain connections and relationships that had been severed by time and fate. They helped to stay sane, when not abused of course. Or to remember not to make past mistakes. Her journals were testimonies of both. 

And so, even though she disapproved slightly, Me couldn’t blame Clara for wanting to clutch to the last piece of the Doctor she had. It was a beautiful song really, sad and filled with irony as it was composed in remembrance of Clara herself by a man who couldn’t even remember the woman he had composed it for. The Doctor’s attachment to his friend had been obvious from the day they had met, and her journals held many passages about it. His willingness to send the universe into a spiraling chaos had been beautiful but also terrifying. Clara’s refusal to part from him, her sullen moods whenever they caught the briefest of glimpses of red velvet, and her obsession with his song were proof enough of Clara’s own feelings for the alien. 

But the TARDIS did not read her journals out loud on repeat like she did with the Doctor’s song. Endless repeat for hours on end. The ship was so finely attuned with Clara that sometimes it was almost scary even though Me knew that it was a sentient being. When Clara was feeling down, the TARDIS matched her with appropriate mood lighting and depressive love songs. It was fast shredding her last bits of sanity. Me had developed coping mechanisms over her billions of years long life. Of course, not being able to fully recall her entire life helped deal with the darker parts. And yet there was something heartbreaking about Clara Oswald’s yearning for the Doctor. 

She had been torn from her death and frozen in time, only to be confronted with the real depth of the Doctor’s feelings for her and the consequences of his actions without really having the time to come to terms with any of it. Because of her ‘condition’ Clara couldn’t be with the Doctor, or the Time Lords would find them both. They were a danger to each other and despite their fierce desire to be together, neither would dare to put the other at risk. Me sighed. This whole thing was so messed up. 

Entering the library Me quickly sought out her favorite spot: the leather high wingback chair near the fireplace. Good for brooding and giving off an air of mysteriousness, with maybe a hint of mischievousness. Perfect. Sitting down with her chin resting on her fist, Me stared unseeing into the flames. There had to be something that could be done for the Doctor and Clara. In the brief time since she had begun to travel with Clara, Me had grown quite fond of her. Perhaps it was their shared fate, or maybe it was that Clara had understood a bit more than others what life had been like for her. Now, she was busy teaching her things that Me had forgotten with the relentless passage of time, things like friendship and making amends. The rules of being the Doctor. She owed it to Clara to at least try and help, make amends for her role in the grand scheme of things. 

Her earliest diaries spoke of the Doctor and Clara Oswald, but she had to grow and fall in love herself before she had discovered the true depths of the feelings she had witnessed so very long ago in a Viking village. Had to experience the fear instilled in her by a Time Lord’s wrath to understand the real danger posed by a man so helplessly in love. 

But how would she go about this? 

She let her thoughts wander, half hypnotized by the flickering ire. An empty mind was the best way to approach a difficult problem. 

Me knew from the start that she alone couldn’t do much. Immortality was one thing, but she had long ago lost control of the shade, if it had even been hers at all. And that was the whole problem: Clara’s death was a fixed point, the shade needed her soul because it had been promised one in the first place. 

Wait.

One soul, a soul, not a specific one.

Would that be enough? Replace Clara’s soul with someone else’s? How would that even be possible? The chronolock was on Clara’s neck meaning that the Raven would want her. If she could just control it… For the millionth time she cursed the day she had made the contract with the Time Lords. She was beginning to understand Clara’s hate for them. Scheming from the shadows and concerned only with themselves. They had been pulling the strings from the very start, they had been the ones in control of the shade. 

Oh. 

Me’s eyes widened in realization and she sat up a little straighter in her chair. The Time Lords had control… Was it possible to bargain with them? No, probably not, she thought dejectedly. Neither the Doctor nor Clara were very welcome on Gallifrey right now. The only thing those pretentious old goats wanted was to put Clara back in her timeline and that would beat the whole point of saving Clara. That plan was discarded almost as soon as it had been formed. She picked at a loose thread on the arm rest, her happy mood taking a sudden downturn. 

Wait. Not all Time Lords were opposed to seeing the Doctor and Clara together.

Missy, the lover of chaos. Missy, the matchmaker. She had been the one to put them together, personally choosing Clara. _But would she do it a second time_ , Me wondered. It all depended on what she would reap from it. Putting the control freak and the man who should never be controlled together… She had gotten a kick out of it. She liked to play with people, more so when the emotional stakes were highest. Like now. Yes, Missy would definitely help, Me decided.

A sly smile slowly tugged at her lips as a plan began to take shape.


	2. Act II: Just because it's a bar and it's in space doesn't make it a spacebar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lady Me meets up with Missy to go over her plan in a spacebar when an unexpected figure shows up.

The sounds of glass breaking drew Me’s attention. She watched out of the corner of her eyes as two drunk aliens fought in a corner of the bar. The scene was far enough away that she deemed it safe to stay where she was, her booth sheltered from the main sections of the low lit bar. It was difficult to see through the smoke. The weak lights only serving to cast deep and dark shadows over the walls. Ideal for those who wanted to get drunk in peace or those who wanted to have a nice conversation without prying ears or eyes. As long as you didn’t interfere with anybody else’s business no one would bother you. It suited Me just fine. Swirling the bright greenish drink in her tall glass she scanned the door for any newcomer. From her spot she could observe the entrance as well as the concealed exit next to the bar. Secluded but with a strategic view.

Missy was late and Me was starting to grow impatient. It had been difficult enough to convince Clara to drop her off on a neighboring planet so she could catch a transport to this bar where Missy had agreed to meet her. If Missy didn’t show up soon, she might risk having to go back to Clara no step closer to enacting her plan. She huffed in frustration. 

_HEY MISSY YOU SO FINE YOU, YOU SO FINE, YOU BLOW MY MIND, HEY MISSY, HEY MISSY_

The music came blaring from the jukebox that provided the background noise so suddenly that Me jumped in fright. Through the blaring sound she made out the faint trails of shrill laughter and her head snapped in its direction. 

‘I do love a good entrance, you know.’ 

‘Missy,’ Me hissed, glancing around worried that others would see them. The other patrons were looking agitatedly around at the cause of the blaring song but surprisingly no one paid any attention to their little corner. ‘Oh relax, Time Lord perception filter, no one will see us. To them, this whole table doesn’t even exist,’ Missy said leaning back and putting her feet up on the table. ‘Now, what could an immortal like you possibly want with little insignificant Time Lady like me?’ She batted her eyelashes with her lip curled in a slight pout. Me eyed the Time Lady wearily. Chaos was her cloak. One could never know what Missy would do next. It was what made her a great asset, but also a great danger. 

‘Clara Oswald.’

Missy sat a little straighter. ‘Aah yes, my pet. I hear that she isn’t breathing these days. How is that working out?’

‘I want you to reverse that.’ The words were spoken slowly and with an icy calmness, Me staring Missy directly in the eyes. ‘Oh straight to the point aren’t you? Well, however lovely that would be, I can’t.’ Missy shrugged. Me cocked her head. ‘I don’t believe you.’ Missy set her feet down in order to lean close to Me. ‘That’s your problem, child, but maybe you have forgotten that the Time Lords are the ones controlling the quantum shade. Don’t forget that it was your little deal that entrapped the Doctor in his confession dial and ultimately killed Clara.’ Her words were clearly intended as a bait, but Me ignored it. It wasn’t the first time she heard the accusation, nor did she suspect would be the last. 

‘So you’re basically saying that there is something that the great Mistress can’t do.’ Now was her turn to lay the bait. The woman in question shot her a glare. ‘Careful about what you’re insinuating, child. You might find that immortality is not such a permanent state.’

Me laughed. ‘You can’t threaten me with something that I don’t have. My life was taken billions of years ago. You would actually be doing me a favor.’ She raised her chin in challenge. ‘No. The Doctor and Clara Oswald. You put them together once.’ Missy regarded Me with a calculating gaze, but otherwise remained silent. ‘You even kept them together,’ Me added. And then, abruptly something clicked inside her mind, something that had always felt off but she had never been able to place before. Now though, under the unwavering stare of the Time Lady, she had finally understood. With wide eyes she voiced her sudden insight. 

‘You made the hybrid.’

She had to give her credit, Missy didn’t even bat an eyelash at her statement, what only served to further confirm her suspicions. With an eerie calm, almost as if she was moving in slow motion, Missy raised Me’s glass and took a sip from it. ‘Let’s just say that another Time Lord may or may not have broken into the Cloisters,’ she finally replied, smacking her lips and returning the drink to Me who eyed it with poorly disguised revulsion. A shiver traveled down Me’s back when Missy chuckled, returning her attention to the alien woman. ‘But that’s all in the past. Now, why should I help put them together again? What’s in it for me? Those two pudding brains did this to themselves. Undoing all my hard work. Such ungratefulness, ugh,’ she sighed dramatically. 

‘The Doctor will owe you,’ Me said simply. 

A cold smile spread on Missy’s lips at the words. ‘You are a clever little thing, aren’t you? My, my… that is quite tempting indeed.’ She considered it, Me could see her think it through. The Doctor, owing her for bring back his beloved Clara. It had been a pure stroke of genius on her part for pairing the two together. And what spectacular sparks had flown between them after the Doctor had regenerated. The Time Lady turned to Me. ‘It won’t be easy. I would need to convince Rassilon to lift the shade from Clara’s soul, and I don’t know if you’ve checked, but the old goat isn’t too happy with the Doctor, or Clara for that matter.’ 

Me plastered on a fake smile. ‘You’re clever, you’ll think of something.’ ‘If I didn’t know any better, I would say you’re trying to flatter me. But you’re forgetting a little detail in this brilliant plan of yours: the Doctor. Stupid git that he is will not just go back to her, his whole ‘oh I went too far, I must protect you from myself’ shtick is hard to avoid with him,’ Missy pointed out in annoyance. 

Just as she finished talking a tray with drinks was deposited unceremoniously onto the table, the contents of the glasses swirling dangerously close to the edge. ‘Leave the Doctor to me. Sweet Papa Chrimbo knows how to deal with errant Time Lords.’ Me gaped at the burly man with the bushy white beard who was grinning down mischievously at the two seated women. Missy merely rolled her eyes at the new disturbance.

‘Who invited beardy-weirdy?’

‘Did you take Creative Insults 101 together with the Doctor at the Academy? Because frankly your inventiveness could use some work, you know,’ Santa fired back. ‘Don’t you have earth children to scare with your face?’ Missy sniped right back. ‘Look, you two can trade taunts when we are done. Now, Father Christmas, you said you will deal with the Doctor?’ Me intervened. She had no idea how he had found them or even knew about their plans, but if he was willing to handle the Doctor… who was she to look a gifted horse in the mouth? Santa nodded while Missy scoffed. ‘Seriously? You’re going to let a fictive person make the Doctor see reason?’ 

‘Oh come on, it’s Christmas, you’re desperate, who you gonna call?’ Missy shook her head in disgust and shifted away in her seat when Santa Claus sat down. ‘Hey, if it wasn’t for me, those two wouldn’t even have gotten back together after your little stunt,’ he pointed an accusing finger in her Missy’s direction causing her to put on an affronted air. ‘My stunt? It’s not my fault they lied to each other. And yeah because you did such a great job the first time around,’ she shot back acerbically. 

‘Enough!’ Me yelled. She looked to Santa then: ‘I have no idea how you managed to find us, let alone travel from earth to this remote place. But I know that you have tried to keep the Doctor and Clara together. It would be in everyone’s best interest if you two decided to collaborate instead of bicker.’ ‘Yes, mummy,’ Missy sneered, ‘Although I would still like to point out that we are talking to a fictitious person.’ The immortal let out a sigh of relief, the headache she had developed throbbing a little less. ‘Good. Now do we have a deal?’ she asked Missy. The Time Lady nodded reluctantly, making it clear she wasn’t happy with having to work with Santa Claus. Santa nodded too. 

‘Okay, then we should establish…’ a beep cut off Me in the middle of her sentence. She and Missy looked to Santa who had pulled out what looked to be a phone heavily decorated with green and red swirls. And was that fake snow coming from its casing? He stared at the screen before sighing and rolling his eyes. ‘I swear, I step out for a minute and they manage to create chaos. Elves,’ Santa grumbled. ‘Oh well,’ his voice regaining its Christmas-y cheerfulness again, ‘seems like I’ve been called back. I guess it’s time for you two to wake up I suppose. Good luck with everything and Merry Christmas!’ Santa said, replacing his phone back in the breast pocket of his red coat. A look of sudden realization crossed Missy’s face. Me watched confusedly as the Time Lady lunged forward trying to grab Santa’s suit when her world went black.


	3. Act III: Every miner needs a canary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missy pays Clara a social visit and even comes baring gifts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have enjoyed writing Missy a bit too much...

The Doctor’s smile was so bright and happy, his normally stormy eyes reflecting the same unbridled joy as they stared up at her from the photograph. It had been a great day, celebrating New Year’s with a bunch of aliens who had been partying for several hundreds of years with no signs of stopping anytime soon. One of the party-goers had snapped the picture Clara was now holding. It had been taken several hours after she and the Doctor had arrived. She had been well on her way to being totally smashed by then. In her inebriated state, she had stumbled and the Doctor had reached out to catch her and at the same time bringing her close to his body while gently scolding her. Clara remembered mumbling something and kissing the Doctor on his cheek as a thank you. That had been the moment when a flash had gone off. And now two drunk and grinning idiots were staring up at her from the photograph. One smiling with cheeks tinged red from a combination of alcohol and the lips on his cheek, the other with sunglasses perched on her nose and her face almost squished against her partner in her drunken attempt at kissing him. 

This was her favorite photograph of them together, carelessly happy and running amok through time and space. It had been the only thing she had stolen from the Doctor’s TARDIS. She had spent a considerable amount of time staring at it since then, wanting this image of the Doctor to be the one she remembered him by, not the sad and lost expression he had worn when he had been in her diner. It had left a gaping wound where her frozen heart had been. Every time she stopped running and everything caught up to her, all the pain and the knowledge that he simply was no longer there beside her and never would be again, she went back to that moment, that happy, happy moment. To forget, but to remember as well. If memories were all she would be allowed to have then Clara would make sure to hang on to the happy ones with both hands.

A glance around her room revealed a certain lack of decorations despite the calendar on her nightstand showing that it the middle of December, not that much time left before Christmas. She didn’t feel like celebrating this. Her family thought her dead and the Doctor… This was going to be the first Christmas without him and Christmas really wasn’t that much fun on your own. So no Christmas tree this year, no decorations, not when the memories of hers and the Doctor’s Christmases were still so fresh. Instead of carols, her TARDIS was playing her song. She smiled wistfully at the couple in the photograph, her mind drifting off carried by the Doctor’s music.

‘He really knows how to impress the ladies, doesn’t he? Writing sad love songs and all that. He never wrote anything for me.’

The honeyed tones startled Clara out of her reverie. Jumping up from where she had been sitting on her bed, she whirled around to face the intruder, pressing the frame to her stomach. 

‘Missy!’ 

‘The one and only!’ Missy grinned maniacally at Clara, standing in the center of Clara’s bedroom in her signature evil Mary Poppins outfit, her hands held out in a silent ta-da! gesture. 

‘What? No applause for ole’ Missy? Aren’t you even curious as to how I escaped from the Daleks? Poppet, you disappoint me,’ Missy pouted, batting her eyelashes at her and crossing her arms over her chest in what was supposed to be an expression of upset. 

Clara glared at the Time Lady. In a quick move, she dropped the frame on the chest of drawers close to her bed and grabbed her sonic screwdriver from her jeans pocket pointing it menacingly at the newcomer, its tip glowing a dark red.

Missy made a sound of surprise. ‘Oh, look at that, the kitten has finally grown some tiny little claws. Of course, the question still remains: do you really think you could?’

The wave of red energy sent the chest at the foot of Clara’s bed careering into the wall with a mighty crash, its contents spilling out on the floor. The chair next to it was smashed on impact, bits of wood flying through the room. Missy stood amidst the chaos unharmed though her face betrayed the shock at the human’s actions.

‘I can,’ sneered Clara. ‘You’ll find I have changed quite a bit. Now, I’m assuming that the vortex manipulator strapped to your wrist is what deflected the sonic pulse. Make one wrong movement and I’ll blast that thing to hell.’

‘Looks like the Doctor rubbed off on you a bit,’ said Missy mockingly all the while eyeing Clara’s sonic. 

‘Don’t you dare say his name!’ 

The Time Lady was taken aback by the burst of anger, her gaze shooting up to meet Clara’s scowl, though she was quick to recover. A knowing grin slowly spread on her lips. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, did I touch a bit of a sensitive subject?’ Her voice sounded contrite, but the glint in her eyes told Clara that Missy was anything but sorry. ‘Is the little puppy missing her owner? So sad that after all the Doctor has done, the extremes he went to save you, he forgot about the one person he would always remember... A tragedy really,’ Missy nodded to herself, ‘two star crossed lovers, their love so deep they are prepared to tear the universe apart just so they could be together...’ 

‘Get out,’ was Clara’s only response. Her voice had gone low with the tone of simmering anger around its edges, ‘don’t you dare mock the Doctor and what he did. Don’t you dare!’ 

‘Oh Clara, Clara, Clara, I didn’t come here to mock my bezzy mate. I came to offer you a gift, a ‘thank you’ if you will.’ 

That stopped Clara. The arm holding the sonic faltered as the crazy Time Lady’s words confused her. 

‘Oh now, don’t look so shocked, poppet. I can be nice, when the mood strikes me of course.’ Missy walked over the bed, sitting down on the dark green duvet, legs crossed and a haughty expression firmly painted on her face. Clara followed her movements closely, ready to blast Missy at the first sign of trouble. 

‘Yes, a thank you for making the Doctor punch an azbantium wall for four and half billion years and then almost destroying the universe to save your oh so precious human life. I have to admit, it was quite entertaining. And of course, for getting rid of the old fart. That was the best,’ she laughed.

‘Missy, don’t.’ 

Pouting theatrically, Missy sprang up, brushing off imaginary dust from her dark purple skirt. ‘Alright, alright, I’ll just have to go then, won’t I. Of course, then I won’t tell you that I can remove that accursed tattoo from you so that can finally be reunited with your Doctor,’ she shrugged. ‘But since you don’t want to hear about any of that, I’ll just…’ her finger inched toward the vortex manipulator in slow motion, almost touching it when Clara’s voice cut through the heavy silence in the room.

‘Wait!’ 

‘Yes?’ Missy asked unfazed.

‘How?’ Clara was very reluctant to take Missy up on her offer, but the raw need to see the Doctor again, be with him and touch him… Oh god, she very nearly sobbed at the thought. As it was her breathing hitched, old habits and all that, and Clara knew then that she had lost all advantage to Missy whose sardonic grin only widened. She had effectively fallen into her trap. But in this exact moment she didn’t give a damn, the universe was already tethering on the brink of destruction and she was tired of her, and especially the Doctor, being given such cruel fates. 

‘Well, there are lots of complicated things involved that your tiny little brain could never be able to understand…’

‘Missy…’ Clara trailed off warningly. She might be willing to listen to the alien woman’s plan, but Clara was still playing on home turf giving her one advantage Missy couldn’t take away from her. 

‘Fine, fine. The shade wants a soul, right now: yours. Rassilon controls the shade. Why do you think the Doctor banished him in the first place? Anyways, I might have bargained your soul for someone else’s… Now, who does Rassilon hate more than anyone in the whole of space and time? Exactly, the Doctor.’ Missy looked pointedly at Clara. 

Horrified at the insinuation, Clara brandished her screwdriver, sending another blast at the Time Lady, this time forcing her to stumble backwards. ‘Missy, no! If you so much as go near the Doctor I’ll…’ she panted, fury burning in her chest. 

‘You’ll what? Kill me? Chase me to the ends of the universe? Oh you and that space idiot are nauseating. Just kiss and have babies for god’s sake, but please spare us this whole moping and sulking. It’s making even me feel like I have to do… do something _good_ ,’ she spat out the word ‘good’ as if it were some kind of lethal disease, her Scottish accent lending itself perfectly for the tone. 

Taking several steps in Clara’s direction, Missy closed the distance between them, the sonic screwdriver grazing her chest. Clara herself stood her ground, not giving her the satisfaction of appearing intimidated. 

‘No, you silly human, of course I didn’t bargain the Doctor’s soul, that would be pointless as you would continue being all ‘woe is me’ and who would be left for Missy to play with?’ 

Clara decided that the smile Missy gave her reached new levels of lunacy even by Missy’s already deranged standards. 

‘I bargained mine!’ she exclaimed excitedly. 

Clara stared incredulously at the Time Lady with jaw slack, too shocked to be able to form any kind of response. Her arm fell to her side limply. Missy’s grin transformed into a scoff at the reaction she received. 

‘Bananas remember? Or has acting like a love-sick teenager who stares forlornly for hours on end at a picture of her crush caused your microscopic brain to wither completely?’ Shaking her head, she took a step forward, making Clara take one backward. 

‘Even if I decide to pass the chronolock to you, I can’t go to the Doctor. He… doesn’t see me, can’t see me,’ she finished with a small voice, her mind flashing back to their last few minutes together and the hand of anguish that had squeezed her heart when the Doctor had told her he would know Clara if he met her again. He had looked at her with empty eyes, no flicker of recognition in them, the spark they held only for her gone, buried under a neural block. 

Missy just gawked at her before rolling her eyes and huffing annoyed. ‘Ye’r making me seriously regret the day I chose you. I thought you had potential, maybe even a functioning brain cell or two, but no… Are you thick?! How many times I have to spell it out for you? Time Lords are superior in everything!’ Her accent had gotten considerably thicker with her mounting frustration, ‘That big brain of ours cannot just forget, a simple neural block isn’t enough. If it were, there would be a lot of people jumping at the chance of using it, trust me.’

‘No, the Doctor didn’t forget,’ she ground out, ‘the idiot lied to you. Probably out of some selfless reason like keeping you safe or some other sickly romantic nonsense like that I imagine.’

Utterly fed up with situation, Missy took control. Lunging forward she swiftly touched the back of Clara’s neck, her reflexes too fast for the young woman to do more than let out a yelp of surprise. ‘Tag, I’m it!’ Missy giggled at her own joke, while Clara’s free hand flew to her neck where her tattoo had decorated her skin for the past months. Gone. Or better: it now adorned the Time Lady’s neck. ‘What?!’ she said incredulously. That was not how the shade worked. She hadn’t been willing to transfer her sentence to Missy. 

‘That’s not…’

‘Possible?’ Missy supplied, ‘yes, well, the rules don’t apply to me, pet, accept it.’ Missy threw over her shoulder at Clara as she walked over to the dresser, using the mirror on top of it to peer at her neck at the triple zeroes etched there. ‘Oooh I always wanted to get a tattoo. And look at this one: triple zeroes. Makes one think I went to the wrong part of town,’ Missy drawled with an exaggerated southern American accent. 

Clara’s gaze was also trained on the image in the mirror, brown eyes wide and staring disbelievingly at the black numbers on Missy’s neck. _Free_ , Clara thought, _I’m free_. She was unfrozen, no longer stuck between one heartbeat and the last. It felt as if an invisible weight had been lifted off her chest. It was amazing. It was impossible. 

‘Why are you doing this? Why are you helping me?’ She asked. Anyone could have heard the trepidation in her voice, her initial confidence disappearing fast as Missy kept throwing her curve balls. 

‘Because it’s Christmas of course! You lowly humans are always so bananas about this, with your songs and gaudy decorations and being good and nice.’ The longer Missy went on, the more her fake enthusiasm gave way to disgust. 

‘Of which you are neither,’ shot Clara. 

‘Exactly! I knew there was hope left for you, pet. Now say something nice!’ 

‘Go to hell!’

‘Been there, honey, fabulous place,’ Missy winked exaggeratedly, ‘and now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment with death,’ she grinned. ‘Ta!’

The bright blue flash of the Vortex manipulator caused Clara to squeeze her eyes shut. But as soon as it had abated, she reacted fast striding over to where Missy had vanished and scanning the spot with her sonic to see if the Vortex manipulator had left any trace. Suddenly though her vision swam. Black spots appeared near the edges followed by a lurch inside her chest. The sonic slipped from her fingers and clattering to the floor as her grip loosened. 

‘I forgot to tell you that returning to the land of the living after being frozen in time can be quite … _disconcerting_ … with dizzy spells and even the risk of passing out. Something to do with the sudden flow of blood.’ Missy’s voice sounded distant, disembodied. Clara blinked to try and clear her vision only to see the Time Lady staring down at her. She couldn’t remember falling to the ground.

‘Oh, and I hear breathing is a good idea too.’ 

For the first time in months, Clara heaved a deep breath, oxygen once more a necessity and it filled and expanded her lungs. The last thing she remembered was Missy’s shrill laughter before her world went dark.


	4. Act IV: Nobody likes the tangerines!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Father Christmas pays the Doctor a visit and gives him a little piece of advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems there has been a bit of confusion about the linear development of the story. The chapters are snippets which show how the three conspirators decide to work together, followed by a visit paid to Clara and the Doctor. I've added chapter summaries in the hope of making this clearer. Sorry for the confusion!

_Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock._

The screw the Doctor was twisting snapped, the head flying across the table and getting lost in the myriad of other loose parts scattered on his work bench. The Doctor’s blood froze at the sound coming from the TARDIS doors. 

He had been converting another radio into a clockwork squirrel. Too much festive music, even on the intergalactic radio waves. If he had to listen to one more rendition of Jingle Bells, he was going to take the TARDIS back to when it had first been written and wipe it from existence, paradoxes be damned. 

Around him the TARDIS’ lights were down to a minimum, barely enough to see by. It was just him, alone. Had been for months. Five months to be exact, since he had left Clara pretending to have forgotten her in her TARDIS. No travelling, no adventures, only endless little things on the TARDIS, the odd repair job here, a tweak to her engines there. He had well and truly isolated himself.  
His ship had been parked on a remote ice-planet deep inside a cave, well away from Earth and any form of life. Well away from her. She was safer this way, less of a chance of the Time Lords finding her through him, or himself for that matter. And it kept him from the temptation of checking in on her. 

He hadn’t seen or spoken to anyone in months. 

Until now. 

_Always four knocks_ , he thought, _always_. Dread settled like a heavy brick in his stomach as he stared at the doors. What sort of impending doom dared disturb his exile? Couldn’t the universe just leave him alone for once, just this one time? Didn’t they understand that he needed time to grieve? That he needed time to rebuild his walls because otherwise he was just as likely to let the universe burn to save Clara? He was going to come back, of course he was, but he was just a man. A man who had lost more than his hearts could bear. He had asked to lose just once, and cruelly the universe had listened, granting him his wish. Now, every beat of his hearts was a painful reminder of Clara’s lack of one. And since he couldn’t very well make his hearts stop beating he was living in constant agony. Five months. An eternity. Except he had known eternity. And yet… at the time he had been able to slowly create a plan to save her. Now though… 

_Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock._

The Doctor’s temper rose. The universe could save itself. ‘Go away!’ His yell echoed in the emptiness of the TARDIS. Carefully he listened for any signs that whomever was outside hadn’t heard him. There was nothing, only silence, his constant companion. Satisfied, he turned back to his workbench already picking up a small screwdriver when the TARDIS’ doors burst open with a bang. He whirled around at the sound knocking the half-finished squirrel to the ground, ready to face the intruder who dared to defile his spaceship. The lack of light both inside the TARDIS and outside made it hard to distinguish the large silhouette looming just inside the doors. 

‘Ah there you are, Doctor. You know it can’t end like this, again. Neither of you is all right and we need to sort this,’ a very familiar voice boomed. The newcomer stepped forward and into the low light. The Doctor’s eyes widened as he took in Santa’s red suit trimmed with white fur, complete with hat, small round glasses and full beard. 

‘You!’

The Doctor scrambled from his seat, sonic sunglasses whipped out from his coat pocket and perched on his nose, scanning the intruder. 

‘You can call me the ghost of Christmas present if you like,’ Santa grinned, resting his hands on his round belly. 

‘What? No, no, no, no, no. You do not get to go all Dickens on me,’ the Doctor growled, angrily stuffing his shades back in his coat. ‘How did you even find me? No, better yet, leave, I don’t want to know.’ He turned around and stomped down the stairs to the sub-level of the control room. Maybe if he ignored beardy-weirdy he would go away. 

No such luck.

Affronted by the Doctor’s dismissal, Santa followed him. ‘You’ll find that I have every right to go ‘Dickens’ on you, Doctor. Where is Clara? Hm? I don’t see her around here, do you?’ He pretended to look around for the missing woman, even going as far as stooping down to peer under a work table. When he straightened up he found a furious Doctor hissing in his face: ‘Leave,’ he commanded. Despite the controlled fury in his voice, the Time Lord didn’t intimidate Santa at all. He was used to dealing with children throwing tantrums, this one was just a bit overgrown. Santa Claus would not back down. 

Crossing his arms, he continued with his lecture: ‘Even after all the effort I put in, crashing on Clara’s roof, leading you to that polar base, the tangerine… And here you are, alone again and sulking. All my hard work, gone.’ He mimicked a cloud of smoke blowing away to emphasize his point. ‘I’m going to have to put you on the naughty list if this continues for much longer,’ Santa tut-ed. The Doctor’s glare increased in intensity, his eyebrows drawn together in a fierce scowl. ‘That was a dream induced by the dream crabs, and you,’ he pointed a menacing finger at Santa, ‘a figment of my imagination.’ As soon as the words left his mouth he drew back as realization dawned. ‘I’m dreaming now too, aren’t I?’ Santa remained quiet, simply gazing at the Time Lord. 

In a state of shock, the Doctor walked back several steps, wanting to put as much distance between him and the man in the red suit as the confinements of the sub-level allowed. Dream crabs. Again! He couldn’t believe he had let himself fall victim to them again. And now that he was aware he was dreaming a dull throb in his temple had made itself known, feeling almost like an ice-cream pain. Nonononono…. He needed to wake up, now!

Santa Claus calmly moved to one of the tables littered with alien tools. Brushing aside some of the rubble, he picked up a yellow exercise book, leafing through it and pausing at the drawing of an angry sun shooting a lightning rod at a line of trees. ‘Aah little Maebh, wonderful girl. Still believes in Santa,’ he smiled fondly, ‘you know, Doctor, this may be a dream, but someone once said that very clever people can hear dreams.’ 

The Doctor inhaled sharply upon hearing those words. They had triggered a memory, long thought lost and buried underneath millennia of other memories: a soft woman’s voice comforting him as a child, soothing his nightmares and fears. Clara’s voice. _Oh Clara, my Clara, you’ve always been there from the very beginning, haven’t you?_ he thought forlornly, _and I have been a fool._

Furious, unsure if at himself for not piecing it together before or at beardy-weirdy’s for using Clara’s words, and with his jaw clenched the Doctor strode over to Santa snatching the book from his hands, its yellow cover crinkling where his fingers gripped the paper hard. He swirled around, hiding his expression from the other man. His body was trembling from the onslaught of emotions. So many feelings at the same time. Everything was finally pushing free of the thick walls he had built, and there was no one to hold his hand and help him process everything, make sense of it all. No Clara to explain to him that what he was going through was natural and that it would ease, no hand on his cheek to ground him. 

‘I thought Santa was supposed to bring gifts not pour salt into wounds, because I really don’t need your help with that.’ The Doctor tried hard to be snarky, but his hearts just weren’t in it. Trudging over to the engines he slumped down on the closed cover, the yellow notebook falling to the floor next to him, forgotten. He buried his face in his hands, trying desperately to regain a modicum of control over his rampant emotions. Breaking down in front of Santa was not high on his list of things to do at the moment. ‘Just get out and let me have my brain sucked out by those dream crabs in peace,’ he grumbled.

‘I don’t think Clara would approve of that, Doctor.’ Santa stood in front of the Doctor, thumbs hooked in his black belt and staring him down, the expression on his face stern, like he was scolding a child. 

‘Clara doesn’t get a vote,’ the Doctor snorted, shaking his head. 

‘And we all know how well that has worked out for the two of you, mister Scottish sourness. Look at the state of you, miserable and alone while she is off crying over you and driving her companion crazy with a song. Doctor, we need to get this sorted.’ The Doctor glared at Santa as if he had grown a second head. The thought of Clara sad tore at his hearts. ‘And how do you suppose we go about that? In case you didn’t know, she thinks the memory block worked. And even if that little obstacle wasn’t there, there is the whole matter of her being frozen in time.’ The two men stared stubbornly at one another for a long moment. It was Santa who broke the silence first. 

‘You know, Doctor…’

‘If I say yes, will that get you to LEAVE?’ The Doctor shouted the last word. He got up, striding determinately to the stairs and up to the main level. Was it really too much to ask to be left alone for a century or two? Santa followed and carried on unperturbed by his outburst. ‘Women always find out when men lie.’ That got the Time Lord to blink in confusion at beirdy-weirdy. ‘What?’ Santa pursed his lips in amusement, giving the Doctor a knowing look. ‘That’s your great wisdom?’ the Doctor waved a hand in the direction of the other man, ‘Women finding out about men lying? That’s…’ The penny dropped. ‘Oh.’ He let out a breath. ‘Clara knows,’ he concluded. 

_That could be potentially disastrous_ , he thought biting his thumb, for his health in any case if not for the universe. 

Santa was now grinning from ear to ear, his amusement etched clear as day on his face. How quickly the Doctor’s fear and guilt were drowned out by his anger. ‘You are enjoying this, aren’t you,’ he marched over to him beyond furious and once again pointing a finger menacingly at his face, ‘you sadistic Christmas abomination. So if the dream crab doesn’t digest my brain first, I’ll find an angry Clara ready to test how many regenerations I have been granted while the Time Lords will happily give her a hand if they don’t kill her first. Thank you so much for this wonderful Christmas present,’ his voice dripped with sarcasm, ‘next year I’d like some socks.’

‘Oh, Doctor, you’re always such a downer.’ Santa patted him patronizingly on his shoulder, causing the Doctor to flinch and rub his arm. ‘It’s Christmas!’ he exclaimed, ‘Of course Santa Claus was going to bring you a present.’ ‘Oh so this was just the appetizer? I cannot wait to see the main course then.’ The Doctor’s sarcasm was pointedly ignored. ‘You’re on top of the naughty list, you know: shooting a fellow Time Lord, ripping apart the universe… but I’ll waive it just this once.’ ‘How magnanimous of you,’ the Doctor grumbled under his breath. Santa shot him a look that made him swallow any more comments he had. 

‘Are you ready?’ 

The Doctor rolled his eyes, motioning for him to just the hell on with it. He stood waiting with arms crossed and all of his anger and frustration forming a palpable aura around him.

Santa grinned before he snapped his fingers and a sudden rhythmic thumping filled the TARDIS. 

_Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump._

The Doctor recognized the sound immediately: the drum of a human heartbeat, slow and steady and filled with life. He looked at Santa in confusion, not really understanding what it meant. A heartbeat? What? No, whose? Unexpected hope blossomed in his chest and spread warmth throughout his body all the way down to his toes. His arms fell away as his posture straightened. His mind was racing with the sudden possibilities while his more rational side tried to clamp down on the nervous butterflies in his stomach. That deep, soul-eating anger evaporated in the blink of any and all because of the mere prospect of her, safe and alive. It couldn’t be. It was impossible. It was…

‘Wait. No! Shut up! What?!’ 

Santa smiled.

‘Clara?’ The Doctor whispered with a sort of desperate hope as his hearts and soul filled with tentative joy. 

He walked right up to the Time Lord and whispered two words in his ear: ‘wakey, wakey!’


	5. Reunion, or 'You lied to me! Again!'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio's efforts pay off as the Doctor and Clara are finally reunited.

The Doctor woke up gasping as the dream crab disintegrated into a pile of dust beside his head on the metal floor. The unfinished clockwork squirrel rested silently on top of the workbench next to his prone figure. A series of coughs wracked him as he tried to breathe deeply and swallow against the knot of anxiety in his chest at the same time. He had barely gotten control of his breathing when the TARDIS doors burst open admitting a small running figure. This time though, the intruder was welcomed readily. Clara Oswald came barging through freezing momentarily until her eyes zeroed in on his body lying between the console and his worktable. Something akin to panic flashed in those brown orbs he had missed so much when she saw him. She ran, falling to her knees next to him, her hands patting his chest and head checking for any signs of injuries. He was too shocked to react to the feel of her hands on him. The sight of her flowing brown hair, furrowed eyebrows and her voice asking him a million questions robbed him of any sane thought. These were all things he thought he would never experience again, and yet here she was…

‘Are you okay? What happened? Why are you…’ Clara trailed off when she spotted the pile of dust next to his head. Feeling even more panic constricting her chest, she whipped out her sonic to scan him and the eerily familiar pile of dust, looking for any traces of the dream crab. He missed her touch already, starved as he was for it after months spent in his forced exile. Only when she was satisfied that the dream crab was indeed dead, did she sit back on her heels, her eyes watching him, moving rapidly over his face taking in all the fine details of his features from the bump on the bridge of his nose to the small lines in the corner of his eyes. 

The Time Lord remained immobile. His Clara was so close, he could smell her perfume, hear the little sounds of her breathing, but most of all if he concentrated hard enough, he could hear her heartbeat. 

One thought kept repeating itself in his head: _Alive. Alive. Alive. Alive._

Shock. Yes, the Doctor was definitely in a state of shock, slowly though he started to come round as his mind understood that this was in fact real and not another dream. In slow motion his gray eyes met Clara’s worried ones. Gradually the rest of his body woke up too and he raised himself up on his elbows, an expression of disbelief still painted on his face. Her name, normally a fixed feature of his vocabulary, now made it past his lips barely as a whisper. It was so quiet that Clara nearly missed it. But it was enough to clear any doubts from her mind about Missy’s words. And his eyes, those beautiful and soulful eyes that hid the secrets of the universe in their debts, oh god they were focused on her, no longer empty pools that showed an unbearable lack of recognition. 

Any further movement beyond what he had achieved so far seemed impossible to the Doctor. Like always his Clara came to his rescue by taking away his choices. With a moment of hesitation, as if she too was having a hard time believing everything that was happening was real, she flung her arms around his neck tackling him in a desperate hug. She buried her face in his neck making him choke on his breath at the feel of her hot tears wetting his skin and collar of his shirt, but he didn’t care because they were real and simply another sign of Clara being alive. His arms moved uncertainly at first, gaining more and more confidence when they touched warm cloth and sensed the up and down movement of her chest. In the end he hugged her back just as tightly, hands gripping the soft fabric of her blouse. 

‘Oh god, oh god, I thought I would never see you again. I thought I’d lost you for good. I thought that I was going to have to travel without you until I went back to Gallifrey,’ Clara rambled, ‘but the next thing I know is Missy coming and telling me she could take away the chronolock, that we could be together without the Time Lords coming after us. And then I find a paper with the space and time coordinates leading to your TARDIS signed Santa Claus. And here you are, and I…’ Her words blurred together in her rush to get them out, broken only by the sounds of her sobs. 

‘Clara,’ his voice had finally returned, and how good it felt to say her name, how good it felt to hear his voice roll the r, ‘ClaraClaraClaraClaraClara, shh it’s ok, it’s ok,’ he wasn’t sure who he was trying to console more in that moment, himself or her. But the Doctor’s words seemed to have the opposite effect on the crying woman. Instead of calming down, Clara became even more agitated, scrambling back from their embrace and getting up, putting space between them. ‘No! No, it’s not okay,’ she cried, ‘nothing is okay about this.’ Something shifted then in her eyes as her initial joy and relief at seeing the Doctor again was replaced by frustration, hurt and anger. ‘YOU PRETENDED TO FORGET!?!?’ her voice was full of accusation as it echoed in the control room, shrill and nearing the point of breaking. ‘You… WHY?! Why? It felt like I had died all over again when you looked at me with that blank stare and, and…’ She sucked in a harsh breath fighting desperately against the fresh flow of tears that threatened to fall. The memory of his blue gaze devoid of any recognition had remained a festering wound in her heart for months after it had been inflicted. It might have been frozen in her last heartbeat, but it had still shattered on the floor of her TARDIS. 

But that had been a lie, she knew that now. 

‘Clara…’ He too got to his feet holding his hand up in a placating manner, wanting to reach out to her but not knowing whether his touch would be welcomed. Clara was angry, had every right to be.

‘Why? Please, just tell me… why did you lie? Why did you force us apart’ she pleaded, her knees buckling as her strength faded away just like her words. The Doctor caught her before she crashed to the ground. ‘Clara!’ His strong arms held her up pulling her to him and supporting her. ‘Please…’ the sound was muffled by his jacket where she had buried her face in his chest, but the despairing tones still tore at his hearts. ‘Because you looked at me with fear in your eyes after we escaped from Gallifrey. You feared me in that moment, Clara, and with good reason,’ he whispered in her hair. Gods, how he had missed that sweet, sweet scent! He selflessly took comfort from her presence, even though she was the one in need of his reassurance. 

Clara pulled back slightly the hand that been clutching his side falling away. She gazed up at him with glistening eyes and wet cheeks. In that moment, the Doctor felt all of the guilt he had tried to bury away after Gallifrey surge up and gnaw at his hearts. Once again he had hurt the woman he loved. Was he really only capable of doing that?

‘I had to let you go, Clara. After what I had done, after breaking all of my promises. I saw it in your eyes, your fear... I was furious, bitter, grieving. I wasn’t the man you confessed your love to in the Cloister Archives. I was not the Doctor, I hadn’t been for a long time. I made us become the hybrid…’ he let out a wary sigh, ‘But Clara… Four and a half billion years locked in my confession dial, remembering… I was blinded and desperate. Each time the cycle restarted had felt like it had only just happened. I just…’ he sighed, ‘I just wanted to see you again.’

His gray-blue orbs were pleading with her, begging for her to forgive his selfish reasons, but most of all for having hurt her.

Clara grabbed his hands, squeezing his fingers. Her anger resurged, although it was no longer directed at him. His words had reminded her of those who had been ultimately responsible for the Doctor’s horrible ordeal. The whole idea had appalled her and the hate she harbored for the Time Lords simmered just below the surface A raging fury rose inside her chest, fueled by her hatred, and it scared her how willing it made her want to take revenge for what the Time Lords’ actions. 

‘No, you listen to me. You had every right after the way they treated you. They tortured you, your own people…Their fear is what made the hybrid, not you. It was their fault! Although…’ Clara trailed off suddenly finding it very difficult to look at him, ‘I feel partially responsible for what happened to you. If I hadn’t taken Rigsy’s chronolock… 

‘Don’t do that, don’t blame yourself, Clara,’ the Doctor interrupted her shaking his head, ‘It was a sound plan given the information you had. I would have done the same, we both know that.’ They smiled ruefully at the irony of his statement. 

‘But the problem remains, Clara. People like us, the way we care… We are a danger not only to each other, but to the rest of the universe as well. I will never be able to let you go, not in here,’ he pointed their joined hands at his hearts, ‘but I can protect you from myself.’

‘No! Shut up!’

Her yell caught him unaware. 

‘Just shut up! That sort of thinking is exactly what landed us here, you stupid, old man! You say I shouldn’t blame myself for your actions. Well then, you need to stop feeling guilty as well. We do things like these because we are apart. Can’t you see, Doctor?’ She shifted impossibly closer, standing on tip-toes to look him in the eye. Their bodies were flush against each other and their faces only inches apart. ‘When we’re not together, it’s then that we do reckless things. We were foolish, I didn’t understand what you were saying, and we wasted so much time but now…’ She used her hold on his hands to tug his arms around her, her own slipping up and behind his neck. Her head tilted a fraction to the side. The Doctor was slow to mirror her actions, time nearly stopping as he became conscious of what Clara was doing.

‘Now we’re here, together, and the universe isn’t ending,’ her voice had lowered considerably, ‘I’m alive, time was restored and the Time Lords are no longer after me. Am I getting through to you? Can you see where I’m going with this, Doctor?’ The Doctor’s gaze fell to her parted lips for a fleeting second, their bodies unconsciously bridging the remaining gap inch by inch. ‘Please, please don’t separate us, don’t deny us again, please… I love you.’ Clara’s breath ghosted over his face before her lips touched his. 

The Doctor breathed her name against her soft lips. She tasted of familiarity and impossibilities and he became instantly addicted to it and he wanted more. Clara immediately reacted when she felt his tongue trace her lower lip, sobbing with relief. She pushed against him, forcing them to the ground as he failed to compensate for the sudden force. He caught her, cushioning their fall and wrapping his arms tightly around her trembling body. Salty tears ran down their cheeks as they kissed until the need to breathe became too much of a necessity for Clara. She was still getting used to needing to breathe again. 

They laughed and cried at hearing her ragged breathing, their foreheads pressed together and their happy tears mixing on the Doctor’s cheeks. His hand rose to caress Clara’s cheek and jaw, wiping at the tear tracks. His fingers soon trailed down to her neck to where her pulse beat strong and fast. He marveled at the sensation of the rhythmic thumping beneath his finger pads, sign of her heart pumping her blood, her life and timeline finally restored. Her smile grew impossibly wider, her left hand covering his and bringing it to rest over her heart. 

‘It beats for you, you know,’ Clara told him softly.

‘Oh, Clara, my wonderful Clara.’ 

Even with his extended knowledge of many of the universe’s languages the Doctor found it hard to find adequate words to convey to Clara the love and feeling of possession that had surged through him at her words. He was never going to let her go again. Deciding that if words failed perhaps he could show her, he lifted his head intent on kissing her when a flash blinded both of them. His arms tightened protectively as dread pooled in his stomach. Their little bubble of bliss bursting much too soon. He felt Clara tense too, ready to spring into action. 

Blinking rapidly they turned in the direction of the flash finding Me standing over them and sporting a sly grin. ‘Ashildr,’ the Doctor all but growled, pushing up from the ground and forcing Clara to move off of him, ‘how did you get here!?’ Remembering all too well the Doctor’s reaction to Me in Trap street Clara stepped between them. ‘Doctor, calm down! Ashildr travels with me,’ she tried to placate him only to have his incredulous stare turn to her, attack eyebrows fully deployed. Time had not lessened his dislike toward the immortal. 

‘Oh stuff it, old man. I told you once I am the patron saint of the people you abandon. Clara needed a companion, I needed a TARDIS. Perfect deal wouldn’t you say so?’ She nonchalantly dropped a piece of paper in front of their prone figures half-lying on the grating, the TARDIS’s lights illuminating them from underneath. The Doctor leveled a glare in her direction, bristling at the veiled accusation in Me’s voice. He refrained from making any comments, though his anger was plain to see in his stormy eyes. Me merely smirked. 

‘Keep it, I’m sure your grandchildren will appreciate the memento. Oh and Clara? Would you mind terribly if I borrowed your TARDIS for a while? It’s just that …’ Me eyed them with pursed lips, ‘I imagine you two have some ahh _catching up_ to do, yes?’ Not waiting for an answer, she made her way out of the Doctor’s TARDIS, turning back one last time to wish them a merry Christmas. 

Silence descended over them, even the TARDIS’s usual noises were quieter. They both stared at the closed doors for a second longer, trying to make sense of what had just happened. ‘You’re just going to let her take your TARDIS?!’ the Doctor spluttered indignantly, his resentment toward the immortal strong. He didn’t think he would ever quite forgive Ashildr for her role in Clara’s death. Or himself for making her immortal in the first place. He stomped over to the console, flipping dials and pushing buttons that really didn’t do anything in particular except keep his hands busy.

Clara studied his stiff posture for a long beat before her eyes fell on the piece paper Me had dropped. It was a Polaroid picture of them about to kiss, their love and joy shining in their eyes. It was quite lovely, perfect for a family album. Family. Her gaze shifted from the frozen moment of time to the Doctor and then back. Could they do it? Have a family together? They would need to work hard, actually talk instead of leaving things unsaid. A real challenge knowing them. She broke out into a grin. They excelled at challenges. 

Clara walked over to him gently taking his hands in hers and forcing him to face her. ‘Yes, I am. Ashildr has waited over half the lifetime of the universe to be able to travel. And I have been teaching her your rules these past few months. I think she’ll be fine on her own, at least for a little while.’ She pulled him close to hug him, her face buried in his shoulder. The Doctor went willing, knowing that her touch would help to calm him down. ‘We on the other hand…’she closed her eyes, inhaling his scent and basking in his embrace for a moment. 

‘We?’ he prompted when she stayed quiet.

Turning her face to meet his gaze she smiled. ‘We shouldn’t be left alone. No. Definitely not. I think,’ Clara grabbed hold of the lapels of his red velvet coat, rising on her tip toes, tongue darting out to wet her lips, ‘I think we should do as she said, catch up, hold on to each other…’ ‘Yeah?’ Clara nodded, ‘Yeah.’ The Doctor met her half-way, their lips grazing gently. 

‘You’re the boss,’ he murmured. 

‘Yup, I’m the boss,’ she replied grinning.

‘Clara?’

‘Yes?’

‘Shut up.’

‘Make me.’

The Doctor matched Clara’s grin. Oh how she had missed his clever bastard smile. He cupped her cheeks claiming her mouth in a searing kiss. His arms dropped to her waist and he picked her up spinning her around. Clara laughed into their kiss at the silly gesture, her heart nearly bursting with happiness at the same time. The spinning came to an abrupt end when the Time Lord stumbled over his own feet as he was too caught up in the sensation of the small woman clinging to him for dear life. The console broke their imminent fall, both grunting as they banged against it and the many buttons and switches dug into their sides. Not that they cared much about the pain as they were too busy exchanging long kisses and broad smiles. They were together now, properly together. The Doctor and Clara Oswald in the TARDIS. The future had never looked brighter.

_Fin_


End file.
